


My Not-So Midnight Kiss

by EmeraldSage



Series: The Holiday Collection [31]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Day 31 Prompt: Tree Decorating, M/M, New Years Eve, RusAmeHoliday, enjoy, last day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:50:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9139729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: RusAme Holiday Prompt #31: Tree Decorating





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to cry. No really, I am. I love you all so much, thank you so much for everything you guys have done. From the kudos to the comments to the subscriptions and the bookmarks, thank you so much for supporting me! It means the world to me to see that other people like and enjoy my writing. Thank you for sticking through the short ones, the long ones, the weird ones, the crappy ones, the ones I wrote literally in half an hour, and the ones I agonized over for days before I posted. Thank you for supporting everything I tried, whether or not it was controversial, overly angsty, or differing from my usual style and 'happy endings' mantra. Thank you all so very much. I love you all!!!!!!  
> And thanks to @rusameholiday mod, @aphmoonchild on tumblr for being super awesome and setting this whole thing up! I hope you enjoy!  
> And I'll have a surprise for you tomorrow :)

            “ _And just **what** are you doing?_ ” the stern but slightly bewildered and infinitely familiar voice called from behind him and he winced as he set down a bauble he’d been ready to string along an evergreen bough. He turned around, slowly; as if the glacial movement would change the fact that Ivan was staring at him sternly from the doorway, one hand on the wooden frame and one where he had flicked on the light switch to illuminate Alfred in the middle of his misdemeanor.

            Although, really, trying to decorate the rather bare Christmas tree in the early pre-dawn hours of New Year’s Eve was hardly a misdemeanor. Ivan shouldn’t really be complaining; his Christmas tree had looked so desolate and empty – he knew the other had been putting off the decorations until he’d had some free time – and Alfred just couldn’t help but try to brighten up the area.

            So…he supposed the actual misdemeanor was slipping out of the Russian’s possessive embrace, stealing the man’s favorite cable-knit sweater (which was _really_ warm and smelled so much like his lover), and sneaking from the bedroom in _only_ a sweater and a pair of boxers to start decorating the tree. He’d also started cooking for the New Year’s feast that they would have later that evening, though he was _sure_ they hadn’t started to give off any kind of aroma that would’ve alerted his lover to his activities.

            It had to be the sneaking out of bed, then.

            “ _I was decorating_ ,” he chirped suddenly, in Russian just as Ivan had addressed him, hoping the swift reply would throw his lover even slightly off his guard (though he doubted it greatly), “ _Everything looked so lonely; the tree looks much happier with some company!_ ” he beamed at the exasperated look on the other’s face. Though he was certainly attentive enough to notice the look of suppressed lust and desire that shot through the other man’s expression as he noticed what he was wearing. He supposed that Francis had a valid theory when he said that red often suited him; Ivan’s red sweater – a brilliantly rich maroon and larger than him by a decent amount – contrasted stunningly against tanned skin, and it looked like his lover _very_ much appreciated the effort. Not that it had been more effort than just yanking something from his lover’s closet and stumbling down the stairs.

            Come to think of it, it was stranger that Ivan hadn’t noticed him awake earlier than he already had.

            “ _We were supposed to do it together_ ,” his lover said with a mix of wariness and slight fondness as he eyed the Christmas tree – and its shiny, childish baubles strung across a mass of evergreen boughs – before turning back to Alfred himself, a glint in his eyes, “ _Just like we were supposed to do it **last** year_ ,” he added, a tad sourly. Alfred carefully avoided swallowing, although that look used to mean nothing good for him, he knew the other too well to misunderstand _exactly_ what the other nation meant to do…, before wincing at the mention of the year before. Last year’s Christmas – when they were _supposed_ to spend the whole holiday season together – had ended in a chaotic disaster, and neither of them had spoken to the other outside of standard nation business for almost half a year. It had nearly hit his birthday before Ivan had showed up at his house the night before, wrapping him in a tight hug and informing him without words that they were going to be alright.

            He shrieked when Ivan dove for him, startling him out of his memories, and nearly tripped into a pile of _very_ sharp glass Christmas ornaments trying to avoid his lover’s perfectly timed grab. He avoided the second, and _almost_ managed to avoid the third without injury at all – save his bruised pride and now slightly twisted ankle – but the fourth swipe had him slung over the Slavic nation’s shoulder, his ankle sighing in relief, twisting and shouting at the larger nation to “ _Put me down, damnit!”_

            The elder did as he was bid…but only after ascending the stairs, swaying, struggling, scowling teenage superpower in hand, kicking the door to their bedroom open, and dropping the teen squarely on their already sex-mussed bed.

            The shrieking, squawking protests only ended when the elder nation silenced the younger by pressing their lips together forcefully, but with the ease that signified decades of long practice and habitual undertakings. After only a few minutes of struggle, a single break for a breath of air, Alfred melted into the intensity of the kiss that had been bestowed upon him. He could feel Ivan shift the focus of their kiss, from subduing the teenage nation’s willful protest into a languid meeting of lovers, casually embracing after they’d awoken together after decades of easy familiarity.

            When they parted, there was barely a breath between them. Ivan’s large hands had slid down his hips to settle _just_ where the curve of his ass was carefully covered by his boxers – he’d learned his lessons of going _without_ his boxers, and it always ended up with him rather sore – and soft breathing gently kissed his face as he leaned into the other man’s personal space with a chirpy, beaming smile that had the other rolling his eyes.

            “ _It is not even dawn_ ,” the other nation grumbled as he steered the two of them, though in Alfred’s case, it was more like Ivan was dragging him, towards the stairs. “ _We can finish decorating **together** ,_” he turned to glare down at Alfred straight in the eye as if to make his point. Alfred nodded at him with fake seriousness in wide blue eyes, and he could see Ivan bite back his sigh. He nearly sniggered; his poor, poor lover. “ _Sleep now, solnyshko_ , _and we will have time to decorate in the morning_. _NOT,”_ he added, catching the mischievous glint in blue eyes, “ _before noon, Alfred_. _Not unless you **want** me to tell England where you’ve run off too this year._ ” Watching his friend/rival/enemy/lover pale at the mention of his former guardian’s potential rage and overprotective fury was almost worth the cold shiver he got when he thought of caustic green eyes and a malicious smile gleaming at him from across the dinner table.

            Almost, but not quite.

            “ _The food!_ ” Alfred yelped, quite suddenly, and he could see Ivan startle, before he relaxed an turned away.

            “ _I already turned the stovetops off_ ,” the larger nation waved away dismissively, as if he hadn’t had a major panic attack almost the moment Alfred had opened his mouth to speak about something regarding safety and alarms. _“To **bed** , Alfred_,” Ivan admonished, herding the younger with him.

            Alfred stretched himself and yawned, curling in closer to the other man’s warmth as he was tucked close to the suede coat and lamb wool insides. He reached up to press a warm, light kiss to the other’s lips, before pulling back and turning away, catching a glimpse of the dawn’s early light.

            They could always decorate the tree later, he supposed.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaah, I’m going to cry. I’m actually done with this thing, this is amazing! I’m so happy that I finished it and was dedicated enough to carry out what I set out to do! I kept the RusAme Holiday Challenge calendar as my wallpaper for the entire month, so whatever I was doing on my laptop, I had to keep the prompts in mind. And I finally finished them! Even with coming off of NaNoWriMo, finals, packing for my trip, going abroad, and a family reunion that seemed to take up every minute of the days (not that I minded), I still managed every prompt by (give or take a few minutes) midnight the day of! I’m super happy! Now, what am I going to write next…


End file.
